Imatges de pÓgina
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Dear companions, hug and kiss,
Toast old glorious in your piss.
Tie'em, keeper, in a tether;
Let 'em starve and stink together ;
Both are apt to be unruly,
Lash 'em daily, lash 'em duly ;
Though 'tis hopeless to reclaim them,
Scorpion rods perhaps may tame them.

Keeper, yon old dotard smoak,
Sweetly snoring in his cloak.
Who is he ? ?Tis humdrum W-ne
Half encompass’d by his kin:
There observe the tribe of B-hom,
For he never fails to bring 'em;
While he sleeps the whole debate,
They submissive round him wait;
Yet would gladly see the hunks

and search his trunks.
See, they gently twitch his coat,
Just to yawn and give his vote,
Always firm in his vocation,
For the C, against the N.

Those are A-s Jack and Bob,
First in every wicked job,
Son and brother to a queer
Brain-fick brute, they call a peer.

In his grave,

We must give them better quarter,
For their ancestor trod mortar,
And at Hth to boast his fame,
On a chimney cut his name.

There sit C--nts, D--ks, and H.-n, How they swagger from their garrison ! Such a triplet could you

tell
Where to find on this side hell ?
H-n, and D-ks, and C- -nts,
Keeper, see they have their payments,

,
Every mischief's in their hearts;
If they fail, 'tis want of parts.

Bless us, M-n! art thou there man? Bless mine eyes ! art thou the chairman? Chairman to your damn'd committee ? Yet I look on thee with pity. Dreadful sight! what I learned M-Metamorphos’d to a Gorgon! For thy horrid looks, I own, Half convert me to a stone: Hast thou been so long at school Now to turn a factious tool? Alma mater was thy mother, Ev'ry young divine thy brother. Thou, a disobedient varlet, Treat thy mother like a harlot?

Thou

Thou ungrateful to thy teachers,
Who are all grown rev’rend preachers!
M-, would it not surprize one?
Turn thy nourishment to poison !
When

you walk among your books,
They reproach you with their looks;
Bind them fait, or from their shelves
They will come, and right themselves :
Homer, Plutarch, Virgil, Flaccus,
All in arms prepare to back us :
Soon repent, or put to Naughter
Every Greek and Roman author.
Will you in your faction's phrase
Send the clergy all to graze;
And, to make your project pass,
Leave them not a blade of grass ?

How I want thee, hum'rous Hogarth! Thou, I hear, a pleasant rogue art; Were but you and I acquainted, Ev'ry monster should be painted : You should try your graving tools On this odious group of fools; Draw the beasts as I describe them From their features, while I gibe them; Draw them like, for I assure You will need no car'catu

Draw them so, that we may trace
All the soul in ev'ry face.

Keeper, I must now retire,
You have done what I desire :
But I feel my spirits spent
With the noise, the sight, the scent,
Pray be patient, you shall find
Half the beft are still behind :
You have bardly seen a score,
I can few two hundred more.
Keeper, I have seen énough.
Taking then a pinch of snuff,
I concluded, looking round 'em,
May their God, the d-l, confound’em.

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A

LADY wise as well as fair,

Whose conscience alwayswas her care, Thoughtful upon a point of moment, Would have the text as well as comment: So hearing of a grave divine, She sent to bid him come and dine.

But

But you must know he was not quite
So grave as to be unpolite;
Thought human learning would not lessen
The dignity of his profession;
And, if you'd heard the man discourse,
Or preach, you'd like him scarce the worse.
He long had bid the court farewel,
Retreating filent to his cell;
Suspected for the love he bore

To one who sway'd some time before; Which made it more surprising how He should be sent for thither now.

The meslage told, he gapes, and stares, And scarce believes his eyes or ears. Could not conceive what it should mean, And fain would hear it told again. But then the 'squire so trim and nice, 'Twere rude to make him tell it twice; So bow'd, was thankful for the honour: And would not fail to wait upon

her. His beaver brush'd, his shoes and gown, Away he trudges into town; Pafies the lower castle yard, And now advancing to the guard, He trembles at the thoughts of state ; For, conscious of his sheepish gait,

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